Characters read Cross My Heart And Hope To Spy
by Marilela
Summary: I was reading GG fanfics the other day and I noticed that there were very few where the characters read the books, so I decided to do one. It is better than it sounds. Please read and review
1. Preface

_**A/N English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes please tell me so I don't make the same mistakes twice. This is my first fanfic, please don't be so hard on me. I WILL TRY to upload things once a week.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but the plot. All credit goes to Ally Carter**_

_**I hope you enjoy it**_

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CPOV

Hello, my name is Cameron Ann Morgan-Goode; yeah you heard that right, my last name is Goode. I've been a Goode for some time now. I married Zachary Goode 2 years after we graduated and we now live in a mansion in New Jersey. We are filthy rich because, besides being the 2 top spies at CIA, we also own a chandelier company that sells a LOT. But enough about me, I think you want to know a little of what happened to rest of the 'gang'.

Well, everybody is working for the CIA, are rich (not like me or Zach rich, but rich), and are either married or engaged. Liz is married to Jonas Anderson and they have a house in Brooklyn, NY. Bex married Grant Newman as soon as they got out of school and they now live at an apartment near Zach and me. And last but not least, Macy is engaged to Nick Cross (I know what you are thinking, Macy is with a boy?!), they met while in a mission and things started from there, even though they are not married, they live together in an apartment in front of Central Park.

Now that I finished my summary, I want to tell you that I'm super excited because we are making kind of a sleep over at my place. It's been so long since we got everybody together... The plan is everybody, including Joe Solomon, Aunt Abby and mom, comes here for dinner tomorrow and then Joe, Aunt Abby and mom will leave and the rest will sleep here.

I was double checking everything when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Agent Goode?" asked someone that I could tell was the director of the CIA

"That's her"

"I want to see you at my office in 30 min."

"Okay. I will be there"

As I was driving my BMW X6, I was wondering that the director wants me for?

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_**Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Please review**_


	2. The books

_**A/N English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes please tell me so I don't make the same mistakes twice. This is my first fanfic, please don't be so hard on me. I WILL TRY to upload things once a week.**_

_**I'm sorry the chapters are short. I promise they will get bigger.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but the plot. All credit goes to Ally Carter**_

_**Since last chapter was so short, I was able to finish this one. I hope you enjoy it**_

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ZPOV

I was siting in my office at home when Cammie came in telling me that she just got back from the CIA headquarters and she had some news. She sat in front of me and told me that the director was sending her on a mission and she had to be in the airport at 8 a.m. tomorrow.

"But this isn't the worst part." She said looking at the floor

"What happened?"

"The director said that this mission would take at least 3 months to be completed"

"Ohh" I mean, it isn't like we never went on missions alone, it is just that it was that they were never longer that 3 weeks. "You know what, lets get some sleep, tomorrow you have to get up early to get ready for the mission"

"Okay, lets go"

We walked hand in hand through the hallways until we got to our bedroom. We changed in some pjs and went to sleep

CPOV

I woke up in the morning and started packing. I was looking for one of my shoes when I found some books, well 5 to be exact and they weren't books, they were my reports from back when I studied at Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. I put the first of them back and took the rest and put them besides my luggage. I finished packing just when Zach woke up.

"Cammie?"

"In the closet"

He came from behind and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Got everything you need?"

"Yeah"

"Before you go I have to call everybody to cancel the plans for tonight."

"Please don't do that. I have an idea, I found my reports from school and I think it would be a great idea to everybody just read together. If they want of course."

"I think it is an excellent idea and it should help me not get so lonely while you are gone. I also think that I should invite Joe, Abby and your mom to sleep here, this way we can read until late. Besides, the gang is taking a break and wont be back at CIA until a month or 2"

"I agreed"

ZPOV

After I dropped Cammie off at the airport, I went home to call everybody again and get ready for tonight

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_**Thank you all that reviewed my last chapter. Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Please review**_


	3. We start the books

_**A/N English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes please tell me so I don't make the same mistakes twice. This is my first fanfic, please don't be so hard on me. I WILL TRY to upload things once a week.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but the plot. All credit goes to Ally Carter**_

_**I hope you enjoy it**_

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BPOV

"Come on Grant, I don't want to be late"

"Coming"

We got on our car and started driving to Cammie's mansion that is just 5 minutes from our apartment. Even though Grant and me were the first ones to get married, we were the ones the ones that still act like teenagers sometimes.

We got there and Zach was on the front steps waiting for us. I thought this was strange because it is normally Cammie that waits outside for us, but I didn't say anything. I got out of the car and walked hand in hand with Grant into the front steps. There I gave Zach a hug and Grant gave him one of those man-hugs. I find those weird.

We went to the dinning room and everybody was already there. We said hi to everybody and sat.

"Where's Cammie?" Asked Ms. Morgan

"Well, she went on a mission this morning and will be back in 3 months, but she said for me to not cancel this. She also gave me reports from when she was a student. We can read them after dinner if you guys want."

A lot of "I'm in"s, "Sounds good to me"s, "Cool"s, and some other things were heard around the table.

ZPOV

Good. They agreed to my idea (well, it was Cammie's idea but you know what I'm trying to say) and we were going to read these books after dinner. Now I'm going to see what she is thinking.

When everybody was done eating, we all went to a big room with a fireplace and some really comfy sofas, beanbag chairs, and armchairs. I sat in a beanbag chair along with Grant and Bex and Nick and Macy. Rachel Morgan sat on armchair. And Joe and Abby along with Jonas and Liz sat on a sofa.

"What is the first report?" I asked

"Let me see. I already read them and I know the order." Liz said, "The first one is missing, it is from the time when Cammie was seeing Josh. The second is this one," she said handing the book to me "it is when we made the exchange"

"This were good times," said Grant "all thanks to Joe Solomon over here"

"It was nothing" Joe said "Headmistress Morgan that had the idea"

"Okay. Who's going to read first?" Rachel said

"I will". I said

"Okay" everybody agreed with me

"**Chapter 1"**

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**_Thank you all that reviewed my last chapter. Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Please review_**

**_Next chapter is A LOT longer, so it will take more time to get it up on the site. I promise I will post as soon as possible._**


	4. Chapter 1

_**A/N English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes please tell me so I don't make the same mistakes twice. This is my first fanfic, please don't be so hard on me. I WILL TRY to upload things once a week.**_

_**I'm sorry it took so long for me to update, but, as u can see, this chapter is longer.**_

_**I'm having a little trouble starting the 2nd chapter, if u have ideas of who should read next please PM me or write on a review. Thanks.**_

_**I'm at my my grandparents' house and they don't have internet, so I won't be able to update soon. I'm soooo sorry.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but the plot. ALL credit goes to Ally Carter**_

_**I hope you enjoy it**_

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ZPOV

"**Chapter One" **I read

"That's it?" Grant said. "The chapter has no name? Just Chapter One?"

"Yeah," I said, "now shut up so we can keep reading."

"**Just be yourself," my mom said, as if that were easy. Which it isn't. Ever. Especially not when you're fifteen and don't know what language you're going to speak at lunch, or what name you'll have to use next time you do a "project" for extra credit. Not when your nickname is "the Chameleon."**

"Why do our nicknames stay with us when we found someplace to work? I mean, even though Cammie is still one of the best pavement artist, she is not so... chameleon-y." Bex asked.

"Your nickname stick with you for your whole life Ms. Baxter, I mean, Mrs. Newman. And I don't think 'chameleon-y' is a word." Said Joe with a chuckle.

"I couldn't think of a better word to describe her."

"How about, discrete?"

"Oh shut up _Zachary_. And keep reading."

"Whatever you say, _Rebecca."_

**Not when you go to a school for spies.**

"Why is she stating the obvious?" Macey interrupted.

"It may be so the people who are not spies understand what is going on?"

"Where did all this wisdom came from, Grant?" joked Jonas

"Be quiet, Joney-boy. I can be smart sometimes."

"Of course you can." Bex mocked. So I decided to read before a full blow war started.

**Of course, if you're reading this, you probably have at least a Level Four clearance and know all about the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women – that it isn't **_**really**_** a boarding school for privileged girls, and that, despite our gorgeous mansion and manicured grounds, we're not snobs. We're spies. But on that January day, even my mother... even my **_**headmistress**_**... seemed to have forgotten that when you've spent your whole life learning fourteen different languages and how to completely alter your appearance using nothing but nail clippers and shoe polish, then being yourself gets a little harder – that we Gallagher Girls are really far better at being someone else.**

"I sometimes wish they could lead a more normal kind of life." Said Rachel looking kind of sad.

"Don't worry sis _**(A/N I'm not sure if Abby is Rachel's or Matthew's sister)**_. When I was in school it was one of the finest part of my life. I loved!"

"And look what your like right now." I heard Joe mutter in a joking way under his breath.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Abby said with her hands on her hips.

"Nothing, love. _**(A/N that's right Abby and Joe are married)**_ Keep reading Zach."

**(And we've got the fake IDs to prove it.)**

**My mother slipped her arm around me and whispered, "It's going to be okay, kiddo," as she guided me through the crowds of shoppers that filled Pentagon City Mall. Security cameras tracked our every move, but still my mother said, "It's fine. It's protocol. It's normal."**

**But ever since I was four years old and inadvertently cracked a Sapphire Series NSA code my dad had brought home after a mission to Singapore, it had been pretty obvious that the term **_**normal**_** would probably never apply to me.**

**After all, normal girls probably love going to the mall with their pockets full of Christmas money. Normal girls don't get summoned to D.C. on the last day of winter break. And normal girls very rarely feel like hyperventilating when their mothers pull a pair of jeans off a rack and tell a saleslady, "Excuse me, my daughter would like to try these on."**

"She seems kind of nervous." Innocent little Liz commented.

"You think?!" Bex replied not so gently.

"I was just saying..."

**I felt anything but normal as the saleslady searched my eyes for some hidden clue. "Have you tried the ones from Milan?" she asked. "I hear the European styles are very flattering."**

**Beside me, my mother fingered the soft denim. "Yes, I used to have a pair like this, but they got ruined at the cleaners."**

**And then the saleslady pointed down a narrow hallway. A hint of a smile was on her face. "I believe dressing room number **_**seven**_** is available." She started to walk away, then turned back to me and whispered, "Good luck."**

"She's going to need it." Nick whispered to himself, but since everybody in the room were spies, everybody heard him.

"And how do you know it?" asked a suspicious Joe

"One of my missions went wrong and they had to make sure I wasn't an impostor. Let's just say it wasn't pretty."

"Yeah. But they wouldn't do anything to a teenager." I said before continuing to book.

**And I totally knew I was going to need it.**

**We walked together down the narrow hall, and once we were inside the dressing room my mother closed the door. Our eyes met in the mirror, and she said, "Are you ready?"**

**And then I did the thing we Gallagher Girls are best at – I lied. "Sure."**

**We pressed our palms against the cool, smooth mirror and felt the glass grow warm beneath our skin.**

"**You're going to do great," Mom said, as if being myself wouldn't be so hard or so terrible. As if I hadn't spent my entire life wanting to be her.**

**And then the ground beneath us started to shake.**

**The walls rose as the floor sank. Bright lights flashed white, burning my eyes. I reached dizzily for my mother's arm.**

"**Just a body scan," she said reassuringly, and the elevator continued its descent farther and farther beneath the city. A wave of hot air blasted my face like the world's biggest hair dryer. "Biohazard detectors," Mom explained as we continued our smooth quick ride.**

**Time seemed to stand still, but I knew to count the seconds. One minute. Two minutes...**

"**Almost there," Mom said. We descended trough a thin laser beam that read our retinal images. Moments later, a bright orange light pulsed, and I felt the elevator stop. The doors slid open.**

**And my mother went slack.**

**Tiles made of black granite and white marble stretched across the floor of the cavernous space like a life-size chessboard. Twin staircases twisted from opposite corners of the massive room, spiraling forty feet to the second story, framing a granite wall that bore the silver seal of the CIA and the motto I know by heart:**

"I can never forget the first time I saw it. It was amazing." Macey said

_**And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.**_

"I do like the motto." Liz said quietly

**As I stepped forward I saw elevators – dozens of them – lining the wall that curved behind us. Stainless steel letters above the elevator from which we'd just emerged spelled out WOMEN'S WEAR, MALL. To the right, another was labeled MEN'S ROOM, ROSLYN METRO STATION.**

"I always wondered how was it possible." I said to myself.

"This is a mystery that I don't think we will ever know." Was Rachel answer.

**A screen on top of the elevator flashed our names. RACHEL MORGAN, DEPARTMENT OF OPERATIVE DEVELOPMENT. I glanced at Mom as the screen changed. CAMERON MORGAN, TEMPORARY GUEST.**

**There was a loud ding and soon DAVID DUNCAN, IDENTIFYING CHARACTERISTICS REMOVAL DIVISION was emerging from the elevator labeled SAINT SEBASTIAN CONFESSIONAL, at which point I totally started freaking out – but not in the Oh-my-gosh-I'm-in-a-top-secret-facility-that's-thr ee-times-more-secure-than-the-White-House sense**, I was proud at myself for saying this in just one breath**. No, my freak-outedness was purely of the This-is-the-coolest-thing-that's-ever-happened-to- me sense, because, despite three and a half years of training, I'd temporarily forgotten why we were here.**

"**Come on, sweetie," Mom said, taking my hand and pulling me trough the atrium, where people climbed purposefully up the spiraling stairs. They carried newspapers and chatted over cups of coffee. It was almost...normal. But then Mom approached a guard who was missing half his nose and one ear, and I thought about how when you're a Gallagher Girl, normal is a completely relative thing.**

"Is that... Thompson?" Nick said

"Yes, it is." Rachel said smiling with a faraway look on her face, like remembering good times.

"**Welcome ladies," the guard said. "Place your palms here." He indicated the smooth counter in front of him, and as soon as we touched the surface I felt the heat of the scanner that was memorizing my prints. A mechanical printer sprang to life somewhere, and the guard leaned down to retrieve two badges.**

"**Well, Rachel Morgan," he said, looking at my mother as if she hadn't been standing right in front of him for a full minute, "welcome back! And this must be little..." The man squinted, trying to read the badge in his hand.**

"**This is my daughter, Cameron."**

"**Of course she is! She looks like you." Which just proved that whatever terrible nose incident he'd experienced had no doubt affected his eyes, too, because while Rachel Morgan has frequently been described as beautiful, I am usually described as nondescript. "Strap this on, young lady," the guard said, handing me the ID badge. "And don't lose it – it's loaded with a tracking chip and a half milligram of C-4. If you try to remove it or enter an unauthorized area, it'll detonate." He stared at me. "And then you'll die."**

"I always loved his sense of humor." Said Grant trying to talk and stop laughing at the same time.

**I swallowed hard, then suddenly understood why take-your-daughter-to-work day was never really an option in the Morgan family.**

"**Okay," I muttered, taking the badge gingerly. Then the man slapped the counter, and – spy training or not – I jumped.**

"**Ha!" The guard let out a sharp laugh and leaned closer to my mother. "The Gallagher Academy is growing them more gullible than it did in my day, Rachel," he teased then winked at me. "Spy humor."**

**Well, personally, I didn't think his "humor" wall all that funny, but my mother smiled and took my arm again. "Come on, kiddo, you don't want to be late."**

"I don't think Cammie likes it so much. Now I know why she never laughs at his jokes. And why most of his jokes seemed to be about things exploding when he is around her." This sent the girls into giggles, Grant was having a hard time trying to wipe away tears from laughing so hard and everybody else had a smile playing on their lips.

**She led me down a sunny corridor that made it almost impossible to believe we were underground. Bright, cool light splashed the gray walls and reminded me of Sublevel One at school... which reminded me of my Covert Operations class... which reminded me of final week... which reminded me of...**

**Josh. **

I was proud at myself to be abled to hear Cammie think about him and not rip the book apart. Not so proud of growling his name, but hey, everybody has their limits

**We passed the Office of Guerrilla Warfare but didn't slow down. Two women waved to my mother outside the Department of Cover and Concealment, but we didn't stop to chat.**

**We walked faster, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of secrets, until the corridor branched and we could either go left, toward the Department of Sabotage and Seemingly Accidental Explosions, or right, to the Office of Operative Development and Human Intelligence. And despite the FLAME-RESISTANT BODYSUITS MANDATORY BEYOND THIS POINT sign marking the hallway to my left, I'd much rather have gone in that direction. Or just back to the mall. Anywhere but where I knew I had to go.**

**Because even though the truth can set you free, that doesn't mean it won't be painful.**

At this everyone went silent probably remembering Cammie's attempt to find answers, like I was.

"**My name is Cammie."**

"**No, what's your **_**full**_** name?" asked the man in front of the polygraph machine, as if I weren't wearing the aforementioned (and supposedly nonexplosive) name badge.**

This had Grant falling his seat from laughing (seriously, what this boy thinks its so funny?)

**I thought about my mother's words of wisdom and took a deep breath. "Cameron Ann Morgan."**

**The room around me was completely bare, except for a stainless steel table, two chairs, and a mirror made of one-way glass. I probably wasn't the first Gallagher Girl to sit in that sterile room – after all, debriefs **_**are**_** a part of the covert operations package. Still, I couldn't help squirming in the hard metal chair – maybe because it was cold in there, maybe because I was nervous, maybe because I was experiencing a slight underwear **_**situation. **_**(Note to self: develop a wedgie theory of interrogation – there could totally be something to it!) But the efficient-looking man in the wire-rim glasses was too busy twisting knobs and punching keys, trying to figure out what the truth sounded like coming from me, to care about my fidgeting.**

"**The Gallagher Academy doesn't teach procedures until we're juniors, you know?" I said, but the man just muttered, "Uh-huh."**

"**And I'm just a sophomore, so you shouldn't worry about the results coming out all screwy or anything. I'm not immune to your powers of interrogation." **_**Yet.**_

Everybody had a smile on his or her faces at Cammie's antiques

"**Good to know," he mumbled, but his eyes never left the screens.**

"**I know it's just standard protocol, so just...ask away." I was babbling, but couldn't seem to stop. "Really," I said. "Whatever you need to know, just-"**

Now everyone was laughing

"**Do you attend the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women?" the man blurted, and for reasons I will never understand I said, "Uh... yes?" as if it might be a trick question.**

"**Have you ever studied the subject of Covert Operations?"**

"**Yes," I said again, feeling my confidence, or maybe just my training, coming back to me.**

Abby looked at Joe for answers and he just shrugged and said "Probably both."

"**Did your Covert Operations coursework ever take you to the town of Roseville, Virginia?"**

**Even in that sterile room beneath Washington, D.C., I could almost feel the hot, humid night last September. I could almost hear the band and smell the corn dogs.**

**My stomach growled as I said, "Yes."**

**Polygraph Guy made notes and studied the bank of monitors that surrounded him. "Is that when you first noticed The Subject?"**

"Polygraph Guy?" Nick asked.

**Here's the thing about being a spy in love: your boyfriend never has a name. People like Polygraph Guy were never just going to call him Josh. He would always be The Subject, a **_**person of interest**_**. Taking away his name was their way of taking him away, or what was left of him. So I said, "Yes," and tried not to let my voice crack.**

"Stop with the Polygraph Guy already! Who is he, Ms. Morgan?"

"I don't know Nick."

"It has just a 2.3453% of chance that a spy forgets something." Liz said in her serious voice.

"Yeah. Spill little sis. We all want to know."

"First of, Abby, I'm older than you. An second, I didn't forgot, I wasn't there." Rachel said looking at the floor. I decided to keep reading to save us from a embarrassing silence

"**And you utilized your training to develop a relationship with The Subject?"**

"**Gee, when you say it like that-"**

"**Yes or no, Ms.-"**

"Geez, somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed that morning." Macey said looking at her nails

"**Yes!"**

**Which, I would like to point out, is not as it sounds, for example, you don't need a search warrant to go trough someone's trash. Seriously. Once it hits the curb it is totally fair game – you can look it up.**

**But somehow I knew that the Office of Operative and Human Intelligence was probably far less concerned about the trash thing than it was about what came **_**after**_** the trash thing. So I was fully prepared when the Polygraph Guy said, "Did The Subject follow you during your Covert Operations final examination?"**

"Seriously again with the Polygraph Guy!" _(I guess you know who said that)_

**I thought about Josh appearing in the abandoned warehouse during finals week, bursting through walls and commandeering a forklift to "save" me, so I swallowed hard as I said, "Yes."**

"**And was The Subject given memory-modification tea to erase the events of that night?"**

**It sounded so easy coming from him, so black-and-white. Sure, my mom gave Josh some tea that's supposed to wipe a person's memory blank, erase a few hours of their life, and give everyone a clean slate. But clean slates are a rare thing in any life – especially a spy's life – so I didn't let myself wonder for the millionth time what Josh remembered about that night, about me. I didn't torture myself with any of the questions that might never have answers as I sat there, knowing that there is no such thing as black-and-white – remembering that my whole life is, by definition, a little bit gray.**

"Now... _that_ is a depressing thought." Bex commented

**I nodded, then muttered, "Yes." Like it or not, I knew I had to say the word out loud.**

**He made some more notes, punched some keys. "Are you currently involved with The Subject in any way?"**

"**No," I blurted, because I knew that much was true. I hadn't seen Josh, hadn't spoken to him, hadn't even hacked into his e-mail account over winter break, which, given present circumstances, turned out to be a pretty good thing. (Plus, I had spent the last two weeks in Nebraska with Grandpa and Grandma Morgan, and they have dial-up, which takes forever!)**

**Then the man in the wire-rim glasses looked away from the screen and straight into my eyes. "And do you intend to reinitiate contact with The Subject despite strict rules prohibiting such a relationship?"**

**There it was: the question I'd pondered for weeks.**

**There I was: Cammie the Chameleon – the Gallagher Girl who had risked the most sacred sisterhood in the history of espionage. For a boy.**

The girls all had sad looks on their faces remembering that time.

"**Ms. Morgan," Polygraph Guy said, growing impatient, "are you going to reinitiate contact with The Subject?"**

"**No," I said softly.**

**Then I glanced back at the screen to see if I was lying. **

"That's it?" Grant asked breaking the silence.

"For the first chapter? Yes, that's it." I said

"It's getting late," Rachel said, "we should probably read just one more chapter and then go to bed. We have the whole day tomorrow since it's summer break and school is out and you guys have a 1-2 months break from the CIA."

"I still don't think it is fair for Cammie to go on another mission since she was supposed to take a break from the CIA with us. But never mind that now. Who wants to read next?" I asked holding up the book.

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**_Thank you all that reviewed my last chapter. Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Please review_**

**_Next chapter will also be long, but I promise I will post as soon as possible._**


	5. Chapter 2

_**A/N English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes please tell me so I don't make the same mistakes twice. This is my first fanfic, please don't be so hard on me. I WILL TRY to upload things once a week.**_

_**I'm soooooooooooooooooo sorry that it took so long to update. I was at my grandparents' and they don't have internet and I just got home some days ago. Again, I'm really sorry. Please don't hate me.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but the plot. ALL credit goes to Ally Carter**_

_**I hope you enjoy it**_

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BPOV

"Ohhhh, ohhhh," Grant said putting his hand on the air, "pick me, pick me!"

"But I want to read too." Liz said. She could never stand in a circle where everybody is reading a book and NOT read the book.

After that everybody was screaming their heads off, so I just got the book from Zach's hand and said really loud, trying to be heard over the bickering. "GUYS! I will read the book now. So shut up and SIT DOWN!" After that everybody did as I said. And with good reason. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, gets in the way of an angry Bex.

"**Chapter Two" **I started.

**If you've ever been debriefed by the CIA, then you probably know exactly how I felt two hours later as I sat in the backseat of a limousine, watching city give way to suburbs and suburbs to countryside. Dirty piles of blackened ice became thick blankets of lush white snow, and the world seemed clean and new – ready for a fresh start.**

**I was through with lying (except for official cover stories, of course).**

At this the guys started laughing and the girls had a smile on their faces.

**And sneaking around (well… except when involved in covert operations).**

Now everybody was laughing

**I was going to be normal! (Or as normal as a student at spy school ever gets a chance to be.)**

And now they were peeing in their pants, and in some cases, *cough*Grant*cough*, it was a possibility.

**I was going to be… myself.**

**I looked at my mother and reiterated the promise that I would never let a boy come between me and my family or my friends or matters of national security ever again. Then I realized that she'd hardly said a word since we'd left D.C. "I did okay, didn't I?" I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.**

"**Of course, sweetie. You aced it."**

"How do you know that? You weren't there!" Abby said sound almost... bitter.

"I already said I was sorry. Okay?!"

**Which, not to sound conceited or anything, I kind of already knew, because A) I've always tested well, and B) people who fail polygraphs don't usually walk out of top-secret facilities and get driven back to spy school.**

"That is true." I said.

**Then I thought about the one-way glass. "You got to watch, didn't you?" I asked, fully expecting her to say, **_**You were great, sweetie, **_**or **_**I think this might be worth some extra credit, **_**or **_**Remember, breathing is key when you're being interrogated with a TruthMaster 3000. **_**But no. She didn't say any of those things.**

**Instead, my mother just placed her hand over mine and said, "No, Cam. I'm afraid I had some things to do."**

**Things? My mother had missed my first official government interrogation because of… things?**

"She doesn't sound happy." Mr. Solomon said. Understatement of the year, I thought to myself.

**I might have asked for details, begged her to explain how she could miss such a milestone in a young spy's life, but I know the things my mother does typically involve national security, fake passports, and the occasional batch of weapons-grade plutonium, so I said, "Oh. Okay," knowing I shouldn't feel hurt, but feeling it anyway.**

"I didn't know she was hurt**." **Said Ms. Morgan looking down.

"It was important, Rachel." Mr. Solomon said trying to make her feel better.

"Yeah, I would HATE to not be able to see the boys that year." Macey said.

"And may I ask, how exactly did you know about that, Macey?" Nick said.

"Spy." She said pointing to herself.

"Hey! That's my line." Zach was pouting like a little boy.

**We sat in silence until there was nothing to see outside my window but the tall stone fences that circle the Gallagher Academy. Grounds. Home.**

**I felt the limo slow and stop behind the long line of nearly identical chauffeured cars that brought us back to school each semester. It had been more than a century since Gillian Gallagher had decided to turn her family's mansion into an elite boarding school, and even then, after more than a hundred years of educating exceptional young women, no one in the town of Roseville, Virginia, had a clue just how exceptional we really were. Not even my ex-boyfriend.**

"_**Tell me everything!**_**" someone cried as soon as I opened the limo door. Sunlight bounced off the snow, blinding me before I could focus on my best friend's face. Bex's caramel-colored eyes bore into me, her brown skin glowed, and, as usual, she looked like an Egyptian goddess. "Was it awesome?"**

"Egyptian goddess?" I said looking amused.

"Well, in Cammie's defense, you kind of look like an Egyptian goddess." Zach said, but quickly added, "no offence Bex but I still prefer my wife's looks."

"Aw, I knew there was a reason I put up with you _Zachy."_ I said, using Cammie's nickname for him, and started reading before he had the time to come up with an answer.

**She stepped aside as I crawled out of the car, but didn't pause because… well… Bex doesn't exactly have a **_**pause**_**. She has a **_**play **_**and a **_**fast-forward**_** and occasionally a **_**rewind, **_**but Rebecca Baxter didn't become the first non-American Gallagher Girl in history by standing still.**

"That is true." I said with a smug expression on my face.

"**Did they grill you?" she continued. Then her eyes went wide and her accent grew heavy, "**_**Was there torture?"**_

"You seem a little too excited about that Bex." Liz said looking at me with an expression that I couldn't identify.

"Well... You know I didn't want Cammie hurt. I was just... I don't know... excited because one of my best friends had just come back from a real interrogation."

**Well, of course there wasn't torture; but before I could say so, Bex exclaimed, "I bet it was bloody brilliant!" Most little girls in England grow up wanting to marry a prince. Bex grew up wanting to kick James Bond's butt and assume his double-o ranking.**

Grant chuckled and said, "That is my Bex alright!" I kissed him hard on the lips and said, "Don't you ever forget that."

**My mom walked around the side of the car. "Good afternoon, Rebecca. I trust you made it back from the airport okay?" And then, despite the bright sun that glowed around us, a shadow seemed to cross my best friend's face.**

"**Yes, ma'am." She pulled one of my bags from the open trunk. "Thanks again for letting me spend winter break with you." Most people wouldn't have noticed the slight change in her voice, the faint vulnerability of her smile. But I understand what it's like not to know what continent your parents are on, or when you'll see them again. If ever. My mother was standing right beside me, but all Bex had was a coded message saying her parents were representing England's MI6 in a joint project with the CIA, and that, like it or not, they couldn't exactly come home for Christmas.**

"That was a bad but great Christmas."

"How can it be sad and great?" Nick asked.

"It was sad because my parents weren't there, but I had a great time with Cammie. Thanks again for that Mrs. Morgan"

"You're always welcome in our family, Bex."

**When mom hugged Bex and whispered, "You're always welcome with us, sweetheart," I couldn't help thinking about how Bex had both of her parents some of the time, and I had one of my parents most of the time, but right then, neither of us seemed entirely happy with the deal.**

**We stood in silence for a minute, watching my mother walk away. I could have asked Bex about her parents. She could have mentioned my dad. But instead I just turned to her and said, "I got to meet the woman who bugged the Berlin Embassy in 1962."**

"She lied to me!"

"How come?" Macey asked.

"Cammie said that she met the woman who bugged the Berlin Embassy, but the book didn't mentioned her at all!"

"Cammie met her on the way back to the car."

"Ohhh"

**And that was all it took to make my best friend smile.**

**We started for the main doors, pushing through the crowded foyer and up the Grand Staircase. We were halfway to our rooms when someone… or rather, something… stopped us in our tracks.**

"**Ladies," Patricia Buckingham called again, her genteel British accent carrying above the noise in the foyer below. "It's locked," she said, as if we have locked doors all the time at the Gallagher Academy, which, let me tell you – we don't. I mean, sure, a lot of our doors are protected by NSA-approved codes or retinal scanners, but they're never just… locked. (Because, really, what's the point when there are entire sections of our library labeled **_**Locks: The Manipulation and Disabling of?)**_

"**I'm afraid the security department spent the winter break fixing a series of… shall we say… **_**gaps**_** in the security system." Professor Buckingham eyed me over the top of her reading glasses, and I felt a guilty lump settle in my gut. "And they discovered that the wing had been contaminated with fumes from the chemistry labs. Therefore, this corridor is off-limits for the time being; you're going to have to find another way to your rooms."**

"I hated that time." I said. After receiving incredulous looks from everybody in the room I quickly explained myself, "Not the boys sleeping in our school part. The having to wake up earlier to get to class part."

**Well, after three and a half years of exploring every inch of the Gallagher mansion, I knew better tan everyone that there **_**are**_** other ways to our rooms (some of which require closed-toe shoes, a Phillips-head screwdriver, and fifty yards of rappel-a-cord). But before I could mention any of them, Buckingham turned back to us and said, "Oh, and Cameron, dear, please make sure your alternate route doesn't involve crawling inside any walls."**

"She ruined the fun." I said pouting.

**This whole fresh-start thing was going to be harder than I thought.**

"What did she expect?" Zach asked.

**Bex and I started toward the back stairs, where Courtney Bauer was modeling the boots she'd gotten for Hanukkah. When we passed the sophomore common room we saw Kim Lee showing off the derivation of the Proadsky Position she'd mastered over break. We saw girls of every size, shape, and color, and I felt more and more at home with every step. Finally, I pushed open the door to our suite and was half way through the throw-your-suitcase-onto-the-bed maneuver when someone grabbed me from behind.**

"**Oh my gosh!" Liz cried. "**_**I've been so worried!"**_

**My suitcase landed hard on my foot, but I couldn't really cry out in pain because Liz was still squeezing, and even though she weighs less than a hundred pounds, Liz can squeeze pretty hard when she wants to.**

Liz was blushing and we heard a faint "Oopsy daisy." Before bursting into laugher.

"**Bex said you had to go in for questioning," Liz said. "She said it was **_**Top Secret!"**_

**Yeah. Pretty much everything we do is **_**Top Secret,**_** but the novelty has never worn off for Liz, probably because, unlike Bex and me and seventy percent of our classmates, Liz's parents drive Volvos and serve on PTA committees and have never had to kill a man with a copy of **_**People**_** magazine. (Not that anyone can prove my mom actually did that – it's totally just a rumor.)**

"**Liz, it's okay," I said, pulling free, "It was just a debrief. It was normal protocol stuff."**

"**So..." Liz started. "You aren't in trouble?" She picked up a massive book. "Because article nine, section seven of the **_**Handbook of Operative Development **_**clearly states that operatives in training may be placed on temporary-"**

"**Liz," Bex said, cutting her off, "please tell me you didn't spend the morning memorizing that book."**

"**I didn't memorize it," Liz said defensively. "I just... read it." Which, when you have a photographic memory, is pretty much the same thing, but I didn't said so.**

"If you look at the situation like that... I kind of memorize it. But I totally didn't mean to! I was just reading it!"

"That's okay, Lizzie, we believe in you" Jonas said trying] to calm her down while the rest of us were trying not to laugh.

**Down the hall, I heard Eva Alvarez explaining how Buenos Aires on New Year's Eve is awesome. A pair of freshmen rushed by our door talking about who would make a better Gallagher Girl: Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Veronica Mars (a debate made much more interesting by the fact it was taking place in Farsi).**

**Bright sunlight shone through our window, bouncing off the snow. It was a new semester and my best friends were beside me. All seemed right with the world.**

**Thirty minutes later I was in my uniform, making may way down the spiral staircase, toward the Grand Hall with the rest of the student body. Well, most of the student body.**

"**Where's Macey?"**

"Ohh. I'm glad someone FINALLY noticed I was missing!"

"You know we love you, Macey. It's just that we were so excited that Cammie came back in one piece that we kind of forgot other things."

"Wow, Liz. I don't know if I should be offended that you called me a thing or happy because I know you guys love me."

"**Oh, she's back already," Liz said, but I knew that much. After all, it was kind of hard to miss Macey's closetful of designer clothes, her stash of ridiculously expensive skin care products (many of which are legal only in Europe), and the fact that someone had very recently been sleeping in her bed.**

**The last time I'd seen our fourth roommate, she'd been preparing for three weeks in the Swiss Alps with her senator father, her cosmetics-heiress mother, and a celebrity chef from the Food Channel; but Macey McHenry had come back early. And now she was nowhere to be seen.**

**Bex was looking around, too, staring over the heads of the seventh graders walking in front of us. "She said she had a bit of research to do in the library, but that was hours ago. I thought she'd meet us down here, but..." she trailed off, still looking.**

"**You guys go eat," I said, stepping away from the crowd and starting down the hall. "I'll find her."**

"Yeah. You guys can go eat as much as you like, because food is more important than your BEST FRIEND!"

**I pulled open the heavy library doors away and stepped inside the massive bookshelf-lined room. Comfy leather couches and old oak tables surrounded a roaring fire. And there, in the center of it all, was Macey McHenry. Her head was resting on the latest edition of **_**Molecular Chemistry Monthly**_**, pink highlighter marks were on her cheek, and a puddle of drool had run from her mouth to the wooden desktop.**

"**Macey," I whispered, reaching out to gently shake her shoulder.**

"**What? Huh... Cammie?" She struggled upright and blinked at me. "What time is it?" she cried, jumping up and knocking a stack of flash cards to the floor.**

**I bent down to help her pick them up. "The welcome-back dinner is about to start."**

"**Great," she said, sounding like someone who didn't think it was great at all.**

**Her glossy black hair stuck out at odd angles, and her normally bright blue eyes were dazed with sleep. Even though I knew better, I couldn't help but say, "So, did you have a nice break?"**

**She cut me a look that could kill (and will – just as soon as our head scientist, Dr. Fibs, perfects his looks-can-kill technology).**

"I'm sooo excited that he finally got them right and I was the first person to try them!"

"You see, Bex, you were the one that stole them and said you wouldn't return if he didn't let you be the first person to try them." Liz, sweet little Liz, just made me look like the bad guy! Which I can't deny, I kind of am, but that's no excuse, SHE MADE ME LOOK LIKE THE BAD GUY!

"**Sure." Macey blew a stray piece of hair from her beautiful face and pulled the last of the flash cards into a pile. "Right up until my parents saw my grades."**

"**But you got great grades! You covered nearly two semesters worth of work. You-"**

"**Got four A's and three B's," Macey finished for me.**

"**I know!" I cried. After all, I had personally tutored Macey in the finer points of macroeconomics, molecular regeneration and conversational Swahili.**

"**And according to **_**the Senator**_**," Macey said, keeping up her unspoken vow never to call her father by name, "there's no way I am capable of earning four A's and three B's, so therefore I must be cheating."**

"**But..." I struggled to find the words. "But... Gallagher Girls don't cheat!" And it's true. Not to sound dramatic or anything, but a Gallagher Girl's real grades don't come in pass or fail – they're measured in life or death. But Senator McHenry didn't know that. I looked at the gorgeous debutante who had flunked out of every prep academy on the East Coast and was now earning A's and B's at spy school, and I realized the senator didn't know a lot of things. Not even his own daughter.**

**The library was empty around us, but I still lowered my voice as I said, "Macey, you should tell my mom. She could call your dad. We could-"**

"That's right Macey, you should have told me."

"**No way!" Macey said, as if I never let her have any fun. "Besides, I already know what I'm going to do."**

**We'd reached the heavy doors of the library, but I paused for the answer. "What?"**

"**Study." Macey cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Next time I'll get **_**all**_** A's" And then she smiled as if, after sixteen years of practice, she'd finally found the ultimate way to defy her parents.**

"That's right, kiddo. You will show the senator what his daughter can do!"

**I heard voices in the corridor outside, which was strange because at that moment the entire Gallagher Academy student body was waiting in the Grand Hall. Something made us freeze. And wait. And despite the heavy doors between us, I could clearly hear my mother say, "No, Cammie doesn't know anything."**

"Oh God!" said Zach.

"Why are you like this Zach?" Nick asked him

"Well, you see, Cammie doesn't like not knowing secrets, especially if it's her that the person is keeping them from."

**Well, as a spy (not to mention a girl), there are many, many sentences that will make me stop and listen, and, needless to say, "Cammie doesn't know anything" is totally one of them!**

"See!"

**I leaned closer to the door while, beside me, Macey's big blue eyes got even wider. She leaned in and whispered, "What don't you know?"**

"How is she going to know what she clearly doesn't?!" I said the obvious.

"**She didn't suspect anything?" Mr. Solomon, my dreamy CoveOpps instructor, asked.**

"_**What**_** didn't you suspect?" asked Macey.**

"Again, how is she going to suspect what-"

"She clearly doesn't?! We got it, Bex. But in my defense, they were rhetorical questions."

**Well, of course the whole point of not knowing and not suspecting is that I neither **_**knew**_** nor **_**suspected**_**, but I couldn't point that out because, at the moment, my mother was on the opposite side of the door saying, "No, she was being debriefed at the time."**

**I thought back to the long, quiet ride from D.C, the way my mother had stared at the frosty countryside as she'd told me that she hadn't watched my interrogation – that she'd had **_**things**_** to do.**

"**We can't tell her, Joe," Mom said. "We can't tell anyone. Not until we have to."**

"**Not about black thorn?"**

"Well, she got the name, but not exactly the name." Zach said.

"**Not about anything." And then Mom sighed. "I just want things to stay as normal as possible for as long as possible."**

**I looked at Macey. Normal had just taken a whole new meaning.**

"That's exactly what I was thinking!"

**After they left, Macey and I slipped back to the Grant Hall and the sophomore table. Mom had already taken her place at the front of the room. I know that Liz whispered, "What took you so long?" as we sat down. But beyond that, I wasn't sure of anything because, to tell you the truth, I was having a little trouble hearing. And talking. And walking.**

**All moms have secrets – mine more than most – and even though I've always known that there are lots of things my mother can never tell me, it had never occurred to me that there are lots of things she might be **_**keeping from**_** me. It may not sound like a big difference, but it is.**

"I'm sorry, Cammie."

"She knows that that had to be done, Rachel." Said Joe.

**Mom gripped the podium in front of her and looked out at the hundred girls who sat ready for a new semester. "Welcome back, everyone. I hope you had a wonderful winter break," she said.**

"**Cammie," Bex whispered, eyeing me then Macey. "Something's going on with you two. Isn't it?"**

**Before I could answer, my mother continued, "I'd like to begin with the very exciting news that this semester we will be offering a new course, History of Espionage, taught by Professor Buckingham." Light applause filled the Grand Hall as our most senior staff member gave a small wave.**

"**And also," my mother said slowly, "as many of you have no doubt noticed, the East Wing will be off-limits for the time being, since recent work to the mansion revealed that it has been contaminated by fumes from the chemistry labs."**

"**Cammie," Liz said, scooting closer, "you look kind of... pukey."**

**Well I **_**felt**_** kind of pukey.**

"Is this what I think it is? This is the day that Liz said a word that doesn't exist."

"Be quite, Jonas! I just didn't know a better word to describe it."

"**And most of all," my mother said, "I want to wish everyone a great semester."**

**The silence that had filled the hall a moment before evaporated into a chorus of talking girls and passing plates. I tried to turn the volume down, to listen to the thoughts that swirled inside my mind like the snow that blew outside. I closed my eyes tightly, forcing the room to dissolve away, until suddenly, everything became clear.**

**And I whispered the fact that I'd known for years but only just remembered.**

"**There is no ventilation access from the chem labs to the East Wing."**

"Well, I don't think it was a good idea to say this when the person that knows the school better than anyone else was there, Rachel."

"Don't forget that the idea was yours, Joe."

"Yeah, but you are her mother and you should know better than to agreed with me."

"And you are her godfather and you should know better than to propose it." Mrs. Morgan _**(A/N I don't know if I should call her Ms. or Mrs.)**_

"I'm tired Liz, lets go to bed?" Jonas said interfering the argument before it got ugly.

"What? Ohh sure!"

"Come on guys I will show you're rooms." said Zach ending the discussion.

* * *

**_Thank you all that reviewed my last chapter. Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Please review_**

**_Next chapter will also be long, but I promise I will post as soon as possible._**


	6. AN

**I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry guys.**

**I can't post anything right now. My dad won't let me go on the computer 'cause we just moved and I'm studying at a new school. I have been begging for WEEKS just for this author's note.**

**My dad really likes my stories and he loves that I like to write them and that other people are willing to read them. **

**Please, please, please review so I can convince him to let me post a chapter before summer vacations.**

**Thank you all my fans for not hating me.**

**Marilela**


	7. Chapter 3

_**A/N English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes please tell me so I don't make the same mistakes twice. This is my first fanfic, please don't be so hard on me. I WILL TRY to upload things once a week.**_

_**Again. I am sooo sorry for not updating earlier. But never mind that now. It's finally here! The next chapter! Hope u like it.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but the plot. All credit goes to Ally Carter**_

_**I know that I'm a really bad person and I don't earn this right. But please, please, please review. U don't know how important it is to me to get a review.**_

**_Also, I have a question: I pretend to get Rachel or Abby pregnant in this story or the next if I do make one) and then Cammie latter on. How old do u think the people should be so that it doesn't get too weird the age differences. Review or PM me ur answers.  
_**

_**I hope you enjoy it**_

* * *

JOEPOV

When I woke up I was breathing heavily and Abby was looking at me with concern.

"Was it the dream again?"

"No. This time Matt wasn't dead. Cammie was walking through the front door with him right after her."

"So why are you out of breath?"

"I kind of was running to hug him first."

"That's a good dream."

We looked at the clock and it was already 9am, not that we actually needed to look but it was habit, so we decided to take a shower and head down to breakfast.

RPOV

I woke up and looked at the clock. 8:32:42am. Great. I better get ready and head down.

LPOV

"Jonas?"

"Yes Lizzie."

"Time to get up."

"Ugh. I'm coming."

BPOV

I woke up before Grant today. He looked so cute when he was sleeping, but I will deny it if he ever questioned me. I got up and ready in exactly 2min and 11sec.

"Grant, get your butt in the shower right now!"

NPOV

8:49am. Why do we have to wake up so EARLY to read these books?! Just then I felt something press against my bare chest.

Macey. I just can't wait till I man up to put the ring that is in the box inside my pant's pocket.

ZPOV

I woke up and looked at the other side of the bed expecting to see Cammie realizing that it is already morning and time to wake up while complaining that sleep never lasts long enough until I give coffee to her.

*Sigh* She's not here, she's somewhere far away and she's going to stay there for 3 months. Well. Time to get ready.

I was the first one to get in the kitchen. I made breakfast (our maid was on a early vacation) and as I was finishing the room began to fill with people.

LPOV

Hummm. The smell was delicious!

"Wow, Zach, where did you learn to cook like this?" Bex asked.

"You haven't even tasted." Zach replied smirking a little.

"You know what I mean!"

"Well, I have known how to cook breakfast since I was little. And living with Cammie that can't make a decent breakfast to save her life has been good to put my cooking into practice."

"So she got her mom's talent in the kitchen then." Abby said making everybody laugh.

"In my defense, I never needed to cook, Matt always did it."

"No. She can't make breakfast because she is so grumpy in the mornings. But she can make lunch and dinner like nobody else I know. You know the food that we always serve at dinner when you guys come?" Everybody nodded their heads. "Well, Cammie makes it and I help a little to go quicker."

After the best breakfast I have had in my whole life, yes that includes Gallagher's, we returned to our seats from last night to continue reading.

"Can I go first?"

"Sure thing Lizzie." Jonas said

"**Chapter Three"**

**There are many pros and cons to living in a two-hundred-year-old mansion. For example: having about a dozen highly secluded and yet perfectly inbounds places where you can sit and discuss classified information: PRO.**

**The fact that none of these places are well heated and/or insulated when you are discussing said information in the middle of the winter: CON.**

"That's true." Agreed Bex.

**Two hours after our welcome-back dinner, Macey was leaning against the stone wall at the top of one of the mansion's tallest towers, drawing her initials on the window's frosty panes. Liz paced, Bex shivered, and I sat on the floor with my arms around my knees, too tired to get my blood flowing despite the chill that had seeped through my uniform and settled in my bones.**

"She's going to get a cold."

"Don't worry Rachel. First, as her Godfather I know that she can take care of herself, and second, it has already happened."

"**So that's it, then?" Bex asked. "That's everything your mom and Mr. Solomon said? Verbatim?"**

**Macey and I looked at each other, recalling the conversation we'd overheard and the story we'd just told. Then we both nodded and said, "Verbatim."**

**At that moment, the entire sophomore class was probably enjoying our last homework-free night for a very long time (rumor had it Tina Walters was organizing a Jason Bourne-athon), but the four of us stayed in that tower room, freezing our you-know-whats off, listening for the creaking hinges of the heavy oak door at the base of the stairs that would warn us if we were no longer alone.**

"**I can't believe it," Liz said as she continued to walk back and forth – maybe to keep warm, but probably because... well... Liz has always been a pacer. (And we've got the worn spots on our bedroom floor to prove it.)**

"I have not!"

"Sorry Liz, but yes you have. And just like Cammie said 'we've got the worn spots on our bedroom floor to prove it." Macey said

"**Cam," Liz asked, "are you **_**sure**_** the East Wing couldn't have been contaminated by fumes from the chem labs?"**

"**Of course she's sure," Bex said with a sigh.**

"**But are you absolutely, positively, one hundred-percent sure?" Liz asked again. After all, as the youngest person ever published in **_**Scientific America**_**, Liz kind of likes thing verified, cross-referenced, and proven beyond a shadow of a doubt.**

Everybody laughed as I turned beat red.

"**Cam," Bex said, turning to me, "how many ventilation shafts are there in the kitchen?"**

"**Fourteen – unless you're counting the pantry. Are you counting the pantry?" I asked, which must have been enough to prove my expertise, because Macey rolled her eyes and sank to the floor beside me. "She's sure."**

"Wow, she really knew that school like the palm of her hand." Nick said impressd

**In the dim light of the cold room I could see snowflakes swirl in the wind outside, blowing from the mansion's roof (or... well... the parts of the roof that aren't protected with electrified security shingles). But inside, the four of us were quiet and still.**

"**Why would they lie?" Liz asked, but Bex, Macey, and I just looked at her, none of us really wanting to point out the obvious: **_**Because they're spies.**_

Again. Everybody laughed

**It's something Bex and I understood all our lives. Judging by the look on her face, Macey had caught on, too (after all, her dad **_**is**_** in politics). But Liz hadn't grown up knowing that lies aren't just the things we tell – they're the lives we lead. Liz still wanted to believe that parents and teachers always tell the truth, that if you eat your vegetables and brush your teeth, nothing bad will ever happen. I'd know better for a long time, but Liz still had a little naivete left. I, for one, hated to see her lose it.**

"Oh well…" I said with a shrug of my shoulders.

"She isn't the only one." I could have sworn that I heard my best friends saying it too.

"**What's black thorn?" Macey asked, looking at each of us in turn. "I mean, you guys don't know either, right? It's not just me-being-the-new-girl thing?"**

"It's not black thorn, it's Blackthorne. Can't you guys het it right?"

"Shut up Grant."

**Everyone shook their heads no, then looked to me. "Never heard of it," I said.**

**And I hadn't. It wasn't the name of any covert operation we'd ever analyzed, any scientific breakthrough we'd ever studied. Black thorn or Blackthorne or whatever it was, it had made my mother miss some quality mother-daughter interrogation time. It had also forced my Covert Operations instructor to hold a clandestine conversation with my headmistress. It had crept inside the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women (or at least its East Wing), and so there we were, not quiet sure what a Gallagher Girl was supposed to do now.**

**I mean, we had three perfectly viable options: 1) We cold forget what we'd heard and go to bed. 2) We could embrace the whole "honesty" thing and tell my mother all we knew. Or 3) I could be... myself. Or, more specifically, the me I **_**used**_** to be.**

"I prefer the first option."

"But where would the fun in that be, Rachel."

"When you get a daughter you will understand Abby."

"**The forbidden hall of the East Wing is almost directly beneath us," I began slowly. "All we have to do is access the dumbwaiter shaft on the fourth floor, maneuver through the heating vents by the Culture and Assimilation classroom, and rappel fifty or so feet through the ductwork." But even as I said it, I knew it couldn't be nearly as easy as it sounded.**

"**So..." Macey said, "what are we waiting for?" She jumped to her feet and started for the door.**

"**Macey! Wait!" Everyone looked at me "The security department did a lot of work over the break." I pulled my legs closer, wrapped my arms tighter. "I don't know what kind of upgrades they made, what they might have changed. They were all over those tunnels and passageways, and..." I trailed off, grateful that Bex was there to finish for me.**

"**We don't know what's in there, Macey," she said, even though the fact that we didn't know what lay waiting in the East Wing was kind of the point, and I could tell by the look on her face that Macey was getting ready to say so.**

"**Surprises," I finished slowly, "as a rule... are bad."**

"Truer words have never been spoken."

**Macey sank to the floor beside me while I told myself that everything I'd said was true. After all, it was a risky operation. We didn't have adequate intel or nearly enough time to prep. I can list a dozen perfectly logical reasons why I stayed on that stone floor, but the one I didn't tell my friends was that I had promised my mother that my days of sneaking around and breaking rules were over. And I kind of hoped my vow would last longer than twenty-four hours.**

"Me too, Cammie, me too."

"**So, what do we do now?" Liz asked.**

**Bex smiled. "Oh," she said mischievously, "we'll think of something."**

"Now, you girls are in big truble."

**COVERT OPERATIONS REPORT SUMMARY OF SURVEILLANCE By Cameron Morgan, Rebecca Baxter, Elizabeth Sutton, and Macey McHenry (hereafter referred to as "The Operatives")**

**When faced with the knowledge that faculty members of the Gallagher Academy of Exceptional Young Women were planning a rogue operation, The Operatives began a research and recognize mission to determine the following:**

**1. What was such a big freaking deal that no one wanted The Operatives to know about it?**

**2. Why were The Operatives no longer allowed in the East Wing? (A change that had added ten and a half minutes to their average daily commute between classes!)**

**3. Who or what was Black Thorn? Or maybe Blackthorne? (Is it possible that Headmistress Morgan and Mr. Solomon were taking on a group of terrorists-slash-florists?)**

**4. What does Mr. Solomon look like with his shirt off? (Because, if you're going to set up an observation post, you may as well be trough.)**

"I'm not sure if I'm completely confortable with you girls thinking that of a professor." Joe said blushing looking at us girls that were also blushing.

"Don't worry Joey, I'm sure that this was just one of the most innocent thoughts that the students had involving you." Abby said as Joe's face got more and more red by the minute

**When I woke up the next morning I tried not to think about the night before, but it's kind of hard to forget covert and potentially dangerous missions when A) The dirty tower floor left a stain on your best school skirt. B) At breakfast, your mother says, "Good morning, Cam. Did you girls have fun last night?" which everyone knows translates to **_**I'm acting perfectly normal because I totally have something to hide**_**. And C) Avoiding the mysteriously off-limits East Wing means you have to find alternate routes to sixty percent to your daily destinations.**

"I just can't imagine that Cammie is this sarcastic, she barely shows it."

"Then you have to see her in the mornings."

**On my way downstairs I walked slowly past the door that opened into the East Wing. It was just another door – dark, solid wood, and an old doorknob. There were hundreds of doors like it in the mansion, but this one was forbidden, so like any good spy, I wanted to open that one.**

**I felt Kim Lee fall into step beside me as she glanced at the door and said, "Going around is such a pain." Of course she didn't think about the fact that half of our teachers could have been behind that very door at this very moment, planning an attack on some rogue florists!**

**I, of course, was having trouble thinking about anything else.**

"Wow, I think that's a first." Abby said

**Not even the sight of Mr. Smith appearing currencies while factoring in exchange rates, could make me stop obsessing about that door and the secrets it was masking.**

**Even Madame Dabney's lecture on the art of perfect thank-you notes and their obviously underutilized coded message potential couldn't pull my mind away from the East Wing.**

**We already had two hours' worth of homework and the promise of a pop quiz on the poisonous plants of Southeast Asia; all the teachers were acting like they had no idea what was going on, or had sworn ta take the secret to their graves (which could have been true, actually).**

**It was business as usual at the Gallagher Academy, and as we started downstairs after Culture and Assimilation (C&A), it almost felt like the break had never happened.**

**Almost.**

"**Well, this is it," Liz said. Bex and I started for the elevator that was concealed in the narrow hallway beneath the Grand Staircase.**

"**What is it?" I asked. Then I turned and saw that Liz wasn't following us to our next class.**

**Instead, she hooked her thumbs in the straps of her backpack and took a step away. "I've got Advanced Organic Chemistry."**

"It was a shock that you wouldn't have CoveOps with us anymore."

**But Bex and I didn't have Advanced Organic Chemistry. Bex and I had Covert Operations. From that moment on, the two of us were going to be training for a life of missions and fieldwork while Liz prepared for a career in a lab or an office. I thought about the forms we'd filled out last semester, the choice I'd made to walk away from any hope of a safe, normal life – from boys like Josh. So it wasn't any wonder that my voice cracked when I said, "Oh. Okay."**

**Bex and I stared into the mirror that hid the elevator's entrance, then waited for the red beam to scan our retinal images and clear us for our second semester in Sublevel One. I tried not to think about how, for the first time since seventh grade, Liz wouldn't be beside us.**

"It's better than Sublevel Two, at least you don't have to prickle your finger."

**Bex must be thinking the same thing, because pretty soon she said, "Are you **_**sure**_** you want to spend the two and a half years doing experiments and cracking codes?" A wicked twinkle appeared in her eye as she studied Liz's pale reflection. "Because the CoveOps class is gonna do underwater exercises eventually, and you know Mr. Solomon will have to take his shirt off."**

"I told you it was just one of the many thoughts students have towards you Joey."

**A portrait of Gillian Gallagher hung on the wall behind us; I saw her eyes flash green, then the mirror slid aside, revealing the small elevator to the Covert Operations classroom. Liz watched the doors slide closed behind us, then Bex turned around and yelled, "But Mr. Mosckowitz might be topless sometime, too!"**

"Yuck. That is a scary thought." Macey said while making a disgusted face

**And then I heard Liz laugh.**

"**She'll be okay without us, right?" Bex asked.**

**We heard the clanking of a suit armor falling to the floor and Liz's distinctive "Oopsy daisy."**

Everybody laughed as I blushed

**As the elevator started to move, Bex said, "Don't answer that."**

Now everybody was with tears in their eyes

**Here's the thing you need to know about Sublevel One: It's big. Like, I've-seen-football-stadiums-that-are-smaller big. And while the rest of the mansion is made of old stone and ancient wood, there's nothing about the frosted-glass partitions and stainless steel furniture of the Covert Operations classroom that could ever be confused with a two-hundred-year-old mansion that housed privileged girls.**

**Bex and I stepped off the elevator, our footsteps echoing as we passed the CoveOps library, full of books so sensitive you can never ever take them out of the Subs. (They're made out of paper that will disintegrate if it's ever exposed to natural light, just to be on the safe side.) We passed bid burly guys from the maintenance department, who smiled and said, "Knock 'em dead, girls." (Knowing the guys from **_**our**_** maintenance department, they may very well have meant it literally.)**

"They sure did." Grant said

**I slid into my chair, trying not to think about Liz or **_**the door**_** or anything other than the fact that I was finally back in the one part of the Gallagher Academy that never pretended to be anything other than what it is.**

"The door?" Grant asked

"Yeah. That one to the East Wing…" Zach said

**That was before Tina Walters leaned toward me, grinning and snapping her gum as only a third-generation spy-slash-gossip-columnist's daughter can do. "So, Cammie, is it true they sent a SWAT team to drag you out of your grandparent's house on Christmas morning?" Tina didn't wait for a response. "Because I heard you put up a good fight, but that they eventually pulled your Christmas stocking over your head and rolled you up in the tree skirt?"**

"OMG. I can't believe she asked that. Never mind. It is Tina Walters we are talking about." Rachel said

**There will probably come a day when national security will rest in the hands of Tina Walters. Luckily, that wasn't the day.**

"**I was with her, Tina," Bex said. "Do you honestly think they could have taken both of us?"**

**Tina nodded, conceding the point. Before she could dig further, a deep voice said, "Static surveillance." Mr. Solomon came strolling into class without so much as a hello. "It is the root of what we do, and it has one golden rule – name it!"**

"You have always liked the dramatic entrances haven't you Joe?"

"Yes I have Rachel, yes I have."

**And then, despite everything, I half expected to see Liz's thin arm shoot into the air, but of course it was a different voice that answered. "The first rule of static surveillance is that the operative must use the simplest, least-intrusive means possible."**

**Well, my first thought was that Sublevel One had become contaminated with some kind of hallucinogenic chemical, because the girl who spoke **_**sounded**_** like Anna Fetterman. She **_**looked**_** like Anna Fetterman. But there was no way Anna Fetterman belonged on the Covert Operations track of study!**

"And why is that?" Rachel asked

"The book is going to explain."

**Don't get me wrong, I love Anna. Really I do. But I once saw her give herself a bloody nose while opening a can of Pringles. (I'm soooo not even making that up.) And that's not the kind of thing that usually screams **_**Let me parachute onto the roof of a foreign embassy to bug the ambassador's cuff links**_**, if you know what I mean.**

"Oh, now I get where Cammie is coming from."

**But did Mr. Solomon act shocked? No, he just said, "Very good, Ms. Fetterman," as if everything were perfectly normal – which... hello... it wasn't. I mean, Anna was taking CoveOps, my mom was hiding something from me, and there was an entire section of our school that even I couldn't access! Everything was not perfectly normal!**

Everybody laughed

**Joe Solomon had been an undercover operative for eighteen years, so naturally he was completely calm as he relaxed against his desk and said, "We deal in information, ladies. It's not about operations – it's about intelligence. It's not about cool gadgets – it's about getting the job done." Mr. Solomon looked around the room. "In other words, don't bother to plant cameras in the living room if your target never shuts the blinds."**

**I started writing everything down, but then Mr. Solomon slid Eva Alvarez's notebook off her desk and into her open bag. "No notes, ladies."**

**No notes? What did he mean no notes? Was he serious? (By the way, it was probably a good thing Liz wasn't on the CoveOps track, because her head would have been exploding about then!)**

I stopped reading when I felt eyes on me.

"What?"

"Well, aren't you going to deny it?" Jonas asked

"Even I can't deny this."

**At the front of the room, Joe Solomon turned to the board and started diagramming a typical static surveillance scenario. Anna was gripping her pen so hard it looked like she was about to pull a muscle, but Mr. Solomon must have that whole eyes-in-the-back-of-his-head thing, because he said, "I said no notes, Ms. Fetterman," and Anna jerked away from her pen as if it had shocked her. (It might have – we do have some very specialized writing instruments here at the Gallagher Academy.)**

"No, it didn't." Joe answered even before Bex formulated the question. "But we do have some pens that can shock you."

"**This is not a required course, ladies. You no longer have to be here." Mr. Solomon turned around. His green eyes bore into us, and at that moment Joe Solomon wasn't just our hottest teacher, he was also our scariest. "Six of your classmates have already chosen a relatively safe life on the research and operations track of study. If you can't remember a fifty-minute lecture, then I'd encourage you to join them."**

**He turned back to the board and continued writing. "Your memory is your first and best weapon, ladies. Learn to use it."**

**I sat there for a long time, absorbing what he'd said, what it mean, knowing that he was right. Our memories are the only weapons we take with us no matter where we go, but then I thought about the second part of his statement – Don't **_**make things harder than they have**_** to be. I thought about what I'd overheard the night before. The look in my mother's eye on the long, quiet ride home. And finally... Josh. And than I realized that my life would be a whole lot **_**easier**_** if there were some things I could forget.**

"And, yet she wanted her memory back after that horrible summer." Rachel said under her breath

"Well, you can't deny that if the same had happened with you, you wouldn't want the same."

"Yeah. I guess you are right Abby."

"Okay. Who wants to read next?" I asked holding up the book

* * *

_**Pleaseeeeeeee review!**_


	8. Chapter 4

_**A/N English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes please tell me so I don't make the same mistakes twice. This is my first fanfic, please don't be so hard on me. I WILL TRY to upload things once a week.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but the plot. All credit goes to Ally Carter**_

_**I'm sorry for not updating earlier, I had a lot of exams to study for and my dog died last week so I had a lot of thing in my mind. Please review, you guy are the only reason I'm still writing this story. There was a time when I was seriously thinking about abandoning the story, but I didn't 'cause of you guys. So please R&R!**_**_  
_**

**_P.S.: From now on JSPOV is Joe Solomon's POV and JPOV is Jonas' POV_**

_**I hope you enjoy it**_

* * *

JSPOV

"I do." I said.

Liz passed me the book and I started.

"**Chapter Four"**

_**Summary of Surveillance**_** By utilizing the "least-intrusive means possible" model of covert operations, The Operatives were able to ascertain the following:**

**According to some very popular Internet search engines, "black thorn" is a common type of rose fungus, but does not appear to be a code name for any rogue government conspiracy theories.**

**There are approximately 1,947 people in the United States named Blackthorne, but, according to the IRS, none of them have listed their profession as Spy, Spook, Ghoul, Assassin, Hitter, Pro, Freelancer, Black Bag Man (or woman), Operative, Agent, or Pavement Artist.**

**Seeing through the door to the East Wing wasn't possible, because, despite rumors to the contrary, Dr. Fibs' X-ray vision goggles had not passed beyond the prototype phase. (Which also explained why he was wearing that eye patch.)**

"It's a really good thing that we can use them today. The missions are so much easier most of the times." Bax said. "And all thanks to Liz."

"It was nothing." Liz said while turning pink.

**A good thing about going to spy school is that you have genius friends with incredible abilities who are able to help you with any "special projects" that may come up. The bad part is that they really get into those "projects". Way into them.**

"**It's got to be in here somewhere!" Liz cried over the sound of heavy books crashing onto hard wood as she dropped volumes nine through fourteen of **_**Surveillance Through the Centuries**_** onto the library table.**

"I can't believe the librarian would expulse anyone that did the same thing. But you never got kicked out!" Macey said.

**I looked around the quiet room, waiting for someone to shush her, but all I heard was the crackling of wood in the fireplace and the sigh of a girl who, after spending every spare moment for a week barricaded in the library, was starting to lose faith in books. (And Liz is the girl who actually slept with a copy of **_**Advanced Encryption and You**_** during finals week of our eighth grade year!)**

**Macey tossed aside **_**The Chronicles of Chemical Warfare**_** that lay on her lap. "Maybe it's not **_**in**_** the library." Macey said, and I seriously thought Liz was going to hyperventilate or something. She might have if Macey hadn't crossed her legs and asked, "So what does that **_**mean**_**?"**

"Very good!" I said. "Now I just have to find out if I'm really proud that you guys are putting the things that I taught you in practice, or mad because of why you are doing it."

**Oh my gosh! I can't believe we hadn't asked that question before – that somehow we'd forgotten one of the basic rules of covert operations: **_**everything **_**means**_** something!**_** Not finding something significant was maybe the most significant thing of all.**

"**Do you know how current something has to be not to be in these books?" Liz asked, backing away, sounding slightly terrified and a little bit giddy. She looked at the volumes on the table as if they were so dangerous they might explode (which is silly, since everyone knows the so-topsecret-they'll-explode-if-you-read- them-without-clearance books are stored in Sublevel Three).**

"Cammie really is a funny person, I'm just sad that I never found out about it." Grant said.

"**So black thorn must be-" Macey started, looking at me.**

"You got the name wrong, Macey."

"Thank you, captain obvious!" Macey said turning to face Zach.

"**Classified," I finished. "Really classified."**

**Spies keep secrets – it's what we do. So we sat in silence while the fire crackled and the truth washed over us: If Blackthorne was that Top Secret, then I was sure we'd never find it.**

"**You know, Cam," Bex said, smiling a smile that might be alarming on an ordinary girl, but on a girl with Bex's special talents it's downright terrifying, "there is **_**one place**_** we haven't looked." She tapped a finger against her chin in a gesture that, even for Bex, was especially dramatic. "Now, who do we know who has access to the headmistress's office?"**

"Please tell me that I heard it wrong." Rachel said while closing her eyes.

"…"

"**No, Bex." I sat up straight and began stacking and restacking books. "No. No. No. I cannot spy on my mom!"**

"**Why not?" Bex asked as if I'd just told her I couldn't pull off wearing red lipstick (which, by the way, I can't).**

"**Because… she's **_**my mom**_**," I said, not even trying to hide the **_**duh**_** in my voice. "And she's one of the CIA's very best operatives. And… she's my mom!"**

"I don't really think that's going to convince Bex." Abby said from my side on the couch.

"**Exactly! She would never suspect" – Bex paused for effect – "her own daughter." And then Bex, Liz, and Macey looked at me as if this were the best plan ever. Which it wasn't. At all. I mean, I know a little something about plans, having helped my father design a Trojan horse – type scenario to infiltrate a former Soviet nuclear missile silo that had been taken over by terrorists when I was seven. And **_**this**_** was not a good plan!**

"Exactly what I think!" Rachel said again throwing her hands in the air.

"**Bex!" I cried. "I don't want to do this. It-"**

**But before I could finish, the library door swung open and I heard Macey say, "Hello, Ms. Morgan."**

**Even though I'd been sitting relatively still for forty-five minutes, my heart felt like I'd just run a mile. Mom looked down at the Portuguese translation of **_**101 Classic Covers and the Spies Who've Used Them**_** and said, "What are you girls doing in the library on a sunny day like this?"**

"**COW extra credit," we all said, citing the cover story we'd agreed on before we left the room.**

"Clever" I praised them yet again.

**But still, my pulse didn't slow down. I just sat there, reminding myself that we weren't breaking any rules. I hadn't really told any lies. (Mr. Smith **_**had**_** assigned extra credit, after all.) Technically, I hadn't broken my promise. Yet.**

"Emphasis on _yet_." Zach said smirking a little

"**Okay," Mom said, smiling. "I'll see you tonight, Cam."**

**I felt Bex's eyes on me and knew what she was thinking – that I was going to be spending the evening with my mother. In her office. What kind of operative would I be if I didn't take advantage of the situation?**

"My point, exactly." Bex said.

**But then I thought about my mother and wondered what kind of daughter I would be if I did.**

"_My_ point, exactly." Rachel said.

**THINGS I'VE DONE THAT I'M NOT NECESSARILY PROUD OF: A list by Cameron Morgan**

"Blackmail." Zach said grinning

**One time I accidentally spilled all of Bex's detangling conditioner and refilled the bottle with volumizing conditioner, and her hair got really big for a few weeks**

**I once wore Liz's favorite yoga pants without permission and totally stretched them out. Also, her favorite sweater.**

**Whenever I'm in Nebraska I always pretend I'm too weak to open pickle jars, because Grandpa Morgan likes to do it for ne.**

**As I have thoroughly documented elsewhere I once had a clandestine relationship with a really cute, really sweet boy and then lied about it. A lot.**

**On the first Sunday after winter break in my sophomore year, I helped Liz implant a camera in the watch Grandma gave me for my birthday. And then I wore it to Sunday-night supper in my mother's office so that I could do the worst thing I've ever done. Ever.**

"At least she feels bad about it." Jonas said

**When you're the daughter of two secret agents, you learn pretty early that spies walk a moral tightrope. We do bad things for good reasons, and for the most part we can live with that. But that Sunday night, when I sat in my mother's office eating microwavable crab puffs and fingering my new custom-made spy watch, I thought about my cover: hungry daughter bonding with her mother-slash-mentor. Then I thought about my mission: do a basic recon of the headmistress's office and hope there will be a report titled **_**Operation Black Thorn**_** or **_**Contents of the East Wing**_** just lying around.**

"Again with the name!"

**Sunday-night supper in my mother's office is something I've been doing ever since Mom and I came to the Gallagher Academy. Usually, however, I don't feel nauseous until **_**after**_** I've eaten (because even though Mom once manufactured an antidote for a rare poison by using the contents of a hotel minibar, she has yet to master microwaves and hot plates).**

"That's true. Don't look at me like this Rachel, as your sister you know I'm telling the truth."

"**So," Mom said, gesturing to the small silver tray of puffs, "how are they?"**

**(Note to self: research bioweapon potential of microwavable crab puffs.)**

Everybody laughed.

"**They're great!" I lied, and my mother smiled. No, scratch that – she glowed. And at that moment I seriously wanted to back out, to put the watch in my pocket and forget how I'd already memorized the exact position of everything on her desk in case I got a chance to snoop and then had to put things back. I wanted to stop being a spy and start being a daughter. Especially when Mom glanced at my wrist and said, "You're wearing Grandma's watch."**

"I knew there was something strange, she never wore watches in general."

**I rubbed my thumb over the smooth glass that now doubled as a telephoto lens. "Yeah."**

"**That's nice," she said, and smiled happily. Even though she seemed to be fine now, I thought about the worried woman I'd shared a limo with from D.C., and the conversation I'd overheard. I wasn't the only operative in that room clinging to her legend.**

"You can't deny it Rachel. Don't even try it."

**And then, before I could stop to think I blurted, "Do you have any fingernail clippers?" Mom looked at me for a second, and I knew I couldn't back out now, so I held out my right hand, which thankfully, wasn't shaking. "I've got a hangnail that's driving me crazy."**

"**Sure, sweetie," Mom said. "In my desk. Top drawer."**

**So see, I didn't even have to pick the lock or fake the fingerprint-activated drawers. I was perfectly within my daughterly rights as I moved to my mother's desk and rummaged around for the clippers.**

" That wasn't really smart." Nick said.

**A brief search of the headmistress's desk revealed the following:**

**Headmistress Morgan had ten different lipsticks in her desk (only three of which were for purely cosmetic uses).**

**Mom carried a small pan into her private bathroom and turned on the water, and that's when I took pictures of every single thing in her trash can.**

**Headmistress Morgan had, evidently, been fighting off a cold, because her trash contained fourteen used tissues and an empty bottle of Vitamin C.**

**I knocked a paper clip dispenser off her desk and channeled Liz with a loud "Oopsy daisy." Then I huddled on the floor as I picked up paper clips with one hand and rifled through her bottom desk drawers with the other.**

**Of all the items the Gallagher Academy receives royalty revenues from, Band-Aids are surprisingly the most profitable.**

**I could hear my mother on the far side of the room, stirring things, pouring things. "Did you find them?" she called out.**

"I can't believe that I noticed what she was doing."

**I held up the nail clippers with one hand while I closed her bottom drawer with the other.**

**I smiled and waved my manicured fingers and thought, I am a terrible daughter.**

"Right now? Yes, you are."

**But my mother only smiled in return, because maybe I'm also a pretty good spy.**

"Yes, you are." Abby said mocking Rachel.

**Ironically, the one person who could explain the difference was the one person I totally couldn't ask.**

**I placed the nail clippers back where I'd found them and looked down at a desk that even an expert would swear had never been touched. I placed my palms against the middle drawer and felt my fingertips brush against the smooth wood of the underside, the cool metal track on which it ran. But something else, too. Something thin and worn.**

I stopped reading and raised an eyebrow in Rachel's direction only to see that she was extremely pale.

"Rachel? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just… keep reading." She muttered

"**I know this semester is going to be a big adjustment for you, kiddo," Mom said. She stirred a bubbling concoction in a Crock-Pot while I pressed a finger against the paper – felt it move.**

"**And last semester. Well, I can only imagine what it must have been like – the reports, the debriefings."**

**I probably hadn't found anything important; after all, the underside of a drawer isn't a preferred hiding place for a spy – nothing about it is secure or protected. But it is a good hiding place for a women – a place to keep something you want nearby but out of sight.**

"**And I want you to know," Mom went on, "that I am so proud of you."**

**Yes, that's right, not only was I invading my mother's personal space right under her nose, but that's the moment she chose to tell me how proud she was of my new-and-improved behavior! I was official:**

I waited to Rachel' comment, but it never came. She was with her eyes closed, and I think, fighting back tears.

**I was a terrible person.**

**Then I felt the paper give. It fluttered through the air and landed right on my lap. And from that point on I barely heard a word my mother said.**

**Dad.**

"Oh." Everybody said while looking at Rachel. I decided to read faster so I could get this over with.

**It was a picture of Dad – but like no picture I'd ever seen, because for starters, he looked older than he did in the pictures Grandma had given me and younger than he did in the pictures of him and my mom. And in this picture, my father wasn't alone.**

**Mr. Solomon's arm was around my father's shoulders.**

"Zach, do you have a copy?"

"Yes, I do."

"Can you take a copy to me?"

"Sure thing, Joe."

**They stood on a baseball field. They were young. They were strong. And id I hadn't known better, I would have sworn they were both immortal.**

I had a little smile at the corner of my mouth at this statement.

**But I did know better. And that, I guess, was the problem.**

And just like that the smile was gone.

"**Did you find what you needed sweetheart?" Mom asked, and I thought it was a really good question. I aimed my watch at the photo, imagined the faint click as I took a picture. "Cam," Mom said again, moving toward me.**

"**I'm not feeling so well," I said, and slipped the picture back to where my mother kept it hidden. From me. From herself. From whoever. I moved away from the desk, toward the door. "Can I maybe have a rain check on supper?"**

"**Cam," Mom said stopping me. She put her hand against my forehead like Grandma Morgan always does. "It could be a cold – you know something has been going around." I did know. I'd already seen the proof in her trash can.**

"**I think I just need to go to bed," I said. "It's pretty late."**

**But then I opened the door, and there, in the Hall of History, I saw Bex.**

**And Liz was sitting on her shoulders.**

"Now, _that_ wasn't very smart."

"Yeah, but we're still awesome." Macey said.

"I never said you weren't." I said

"You never said we were, either."

"_Touché._ Okay, who wants to go next?"

* * *

_**Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Please review**_


	9. Chapter 5

_**A/N English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes please tell me so I don't make the same mistakes twice. This is my first fanfic, please don't be so hard on me.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything but the plot. All credit goes to Ally Carter**_

_********__From now on JSPOV is Joe Solomon's POV and JPOV is Jonas' POV_

**_YOU HAVE TO READ THE FOOTNOTE_**

**_Please R&R_**

_**I hope you enjoy it**_

* * *

GPOV

"I do!"

"**Chapter Five"**

**Time's a strange thing at the Gallagher Academy. Usually it flies. But sometimes it gets really, really slow. Needless to say, this was one of **_**those**_** times.**

"I've never experienced this." Liz said. Everybody looked at her really funny and she looked like she was thinking really hard when she said. "Ohh. Never mind."

"That's what I thought." Macey said looking relieved

**The Operatives modified a Mobile Observation Device (aka Macey's new digital camera) and attached it to the bookcase across from the entrance to the headmistress's office with a Retractable Adhesion Unit (aka duct tape) and programmed it to take pictures at ninety-second intervals.**

"That's very intelligent." Joe said

"But I'm sure you guys could show your skills on another totally different case. Right Joe?" Rachel said giving him _the evil eye_, and trust me, you DO NOT want to be on the receiving end of _the evil eye_ of a Morgan

"Right" Joe squeaked

**Down the corridor, I saw Macey kneeling in front of the mysteriously locked door to the East Wing.**

**The Operatives secured an Entry/Exit Detection Device (aka a piece of string) to the doorknob in question, knowing it would fall off if the door was opened in The Operatives' absence.**

"Seriously guys, I can't believe you had such big brains at such a young age. Never mind. I forgot we were spies for a sec-" But Abby didn't have time to finish 'cause she ran out of the room with her hand blocking her mouth

"Abby wait!" Joe said going after her

They came back some time later and Rachel said "Abby, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It was nothing to worry about. Grant, keep reading."

**For a split second, everything seemed to freeze, but then I heard my mom say, "What is it, Cam?" She walked toward me.**

"Great Cammie, another 'lying to the mother' time."

"**Nothing." I closed the door and leaned against it. "It's just…" **_**It's just that my friends are completely insane and on the other side of this door right now, doing things that they really aren't supposed to be doing, and if you catch them you'll be really mad – or proud – but probably mad.**_

"Well… I proud of what you girls made. But" she added noticing the relieved looks being passed between the girls "don't think you guys are getting off the rook so easy. When Cammie gets home I'll think of something. You are in big trouble, young ladies."

Now the girls looked afraid because they knew that Rachel wouldn't forget to punish them, you know, spy memory and all

"**It's just… I wanted to tell you that I think I'm really in a good place this semester." (Because technically, at that moment, the best possible place was between the headmistress and my roommates.) "And I was thinking about what you said," I went on. "I'm committed to-"**

"Great, she's lying with even lying…"

**But then a bang on the door cut me off, and I had a bad feeling that Liz had fallen from Bex's shoulders and knocked herself unconscious on the doorknob.**

"Geez Cammie, way to make one of your best friends feel special." Liz said

"Come on, Liz. You know Cammie loves you." Jonas said

"**Cam," Mom said, inching closer. "You gonna get that?"**

**But I didn't dare turn around. "Get what?" Another knock. **_**"Ooooh. Thaaaat."**_

"Way to be subtle Cammie." Bex, Macey and Zach said at the same time, and let me tell you, this was not normal occurrence around here

**I opened the door. Please let it be Bex, I prayed. Or Liz… Or Macey… Or…**

**Anyone but Joe Solomon!**

"Now I feel loved." Joe said with as much sarcasm as one could muster

"Don't worry, darling. I still love you." Abby said looking like a lovesick puppy

"Abby, are you sure, you're okay?" Nick said, and I don't blame him 'cause I have NEVER in my whole life heard Abby talk like that around people

**Oh my gosh! Could the night get any worse? Yes, it turns out – it could. Because not only was one of the CIA's best secret agents standing in front of me, but my best friends in the world were twenty feet behind him, being secretive and agenty! (I know because I could see Macey's hand holding a compact around the corner to see whether or not the coast was clear. Which, obviously, it wasn't!)**

"I agree with Liz, way to make someone feel loved, Cammie."

**So I said, "Oh, hello, Mr. Solomon," because Madame Dabney has trained me to be social gracious, and Mr. Solomon himself has trained me to act normal under the most abnormal circumstances.**

"I think it's a little late for that Cam." Zach said

"**Ms. Morgan, I hate to bother you, but…" Mr. Solomon looked past me toward my mother. "Those records you asked for, Rachel." He handed Mom a plain brown envelope.**

**An envelope bearing the word **_**Blackthorne**_** in Mr. Solomon's careful writing.**

"JOE! Nice work, if it was an actual mission, the 'bad guys' would have all the information need and we would be in deep trouble." Abby said the sentence in one breath

**And then time got really slow again.**

"**Cam?" Mom said behind me. "You really aren't feeling well, are you sweetie?"**

"That's an understatement. I can't believe she was lying to her own mother like that. Well… not really lying…"

"**No," I muttered. I was staring at the first piece of concrete evidence that Blackthorne wasn't some weird dream I'd had, and yet I just stood there, looking at my Covert Operations instructor but seeing the man in the picture – my father's friend.**

Now the atmosphere in the room changed, everybody got sad remembering what had happened before in the book. After a few minutes of silence I couldn't take it anymore and started to read again

"**Okay, I'm going to go," I said with a glance at my mother. "And you guys have probably got… stuff… to do. And…"**

"Now she's rambling" Nick muttered to himself

**I could have said a dozen things in a dozen languages, but before I could blurt a single one I heard a voice at the end of the Hall of History call, "There you are!"**

**And then the thing that I'd been fearing happened: Mr. Solomon turned around.**

"Welcome to the club, Joe." Liz said

**But there's a difference between getting caught and allowing yourself to be found, and right then, Macey, Bex and Liz were walking through the Hall of History, hiding in plain sight.**

"Good job girls." Joe said

"What are we? Dogs?!" Bex replied

"Hum… Bex? I think it's best if you just take the compliment and forget the rest. Joe doesn't go around giving them to anyone, you know." Macey said

"**We can't hold movie night forever, Cam," Bex said.**

**So I turned my back on my mom and Mr. Solomon, and then, envelope or not, I walked away.**

"That sounds depressing." After some weird looks Jonas added, "You know when in a book or a movie, they say things like that when someone important is leaving to never come back…"

"We know. But they are always the same. The guy or girl always come back and they have a happily ever after…" Abby said and then added, "What? Just because I'm an adult and a spy doesn't mean that I can't watch Disney movies."

**Do you know how many things I was feeling as we got to the room? A lot. **_**A lot.**_** For starters, there was the crab-puff thing. And then there was the envelope thing. But as soon as our door was closed and our stereo was on, I turned to my best friends and cried, "You planted surveillance equipment in the Hall of History while my mom was in her office!" because I guess that was the thing I felt the loudest.**

"I would too." I said

"**Oh, Cam," Bex said, shrugging slightly. "It was just a little recon."**

**Deep down, all I really wanted to do was put on my comfy pajamas and go to sleep and brush the crab-puff taste out of my mouth (but not necessarily in that order.) But instead I snapped, "Yeah, Well you almost got caught – you almost got **_**me**_** caught. And getting debriefed by the security department isn't as much fun as it sounds, guys." I forced a laugh. "Trust me."**

"She has a point, you know." Joe said

**I said it kind of snotty, but Bex didn't answer. She didn't even get mad. Instead, she looked at me as only a best friend-slash-spy-slash-person-who-has-been-trained on-reading-body-language can do. She climbed onto her bed and crossed her long legs. "You found something."**

"How did you know?" I asked her

"Spy." She said pointing at herself and smirking

"Hey! That's my line!" Zach said (_**AN: sorry, I forgot that he was reading too, when you have too much characters, it's harder to keep track of them all)**_

**I could have denied it. I could have lied. But right then I was in the one room in the mansion where I could never disappear.**

"**Actually, I did." I told them what I'd found in my mother's desk. I listed the contents of her trash – even the shades of her lipstick. And finally, I told them about the envelope.**

"Why? I mean she could have just said that she found the envelope with _Blackthorne_ written across it." Macey said

"**We've got to get it!" Bex exclaimed, sounding as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. "We can wait until everyone goes to bed and then break into the office."**

"**That's not a good idea, Bex," I said as I slipped on my pajamas, took off my watch, and pulled my hair into an old stretched-out hairband.**

"**Come on, Cam," Bex pleaded, while Macey and Liz looked on. "If anyone can get into the headmistress's office, it's you!"**

"You shouldn't have said that, I mean, she just went there 'against' her will, saw her dad's picture, got into a 'sticky situation', and now you're pressuring her to do it again. She's going to snap." Zach said

"In my defense, I didn't know about the picture."

"Still…"

**No!" I snapped, maybe because I knew better than to let Bex work up any momentum; maybe because I was still completely on edge. But maybe because sometimes a girl just really needs to snap at someone who she knows will forgive her later.**

"See"

**I started for the bathroom, but Bex was right behind me. "Why not?"**

"**Because it's not a game," I said, talking louder than I wanted, but somehow unable to lower my voice. "Because sometimes spies get caught. Because sometimes spies get hurt. Because sometimes-"**

"Bex!" Rachel said "If you keep doing this, she's going to talk about her father and probably cry."

"Sorry…"

"**We've got pictures!" Liz cried triumphantly. Thin wires ran from my new watch to her computer. Images flashed across the screen. Crab puffs. File folders. And finally…**

**Dad.**

**Because sometimes spies don't come home.**

Everybody looked down thinking about how hard this was to Cammie

**The picture I had taken filled the screen. My jeans were like a denim border – a frame behind the snapshot that had landed on my lap. Liz zoomed in. She magnified.**

"**Ooh," Macey said. "Who's the hottie?"**

"Macey!" everybody said

"What? I didn't know he was her dad. And besides he was a hottie, good catch Rachel"

"Hey!" I said

"Don't worry, Grant. I still love you."

"**That's Mr. Solomon, Macey," I said, starting for the bathroom because, well, I didn't want to cry in front of my friends. And one of the advantages of the face-washing process is that you have an excuse for squinting your eyes and looking away.**

"I told you she was going to cry"

"**Not Mr. Solomon," Macey said. "The other guy. Is he Blackthorne?"**

"Seriously. What kind of name is Blackthorne?" Abby said

"**No, Macey," Bex said, saving me the trouble. I glanced in the bathroom mirror and saw Bex turn from the screen and catch my eye in the glass. "That's Cam's dad."**

**We study a lot of dangerous stuff at the Gallagher Academy, but there are some things so feared that they're never, ever mentioned. Everyone knows my dad was in the CIA. That he went on a mission and never came home. Now there's an empty grave in the family plot in Nebraska. Everyone knows, but no one ever asks to hear the story. And that night, Macey was no different.**

"At least I had common sense."

**I splashed cold water on my face and flossed my teeth, clinging to my routine – to normal. I might have stayed in there, flossing forever, if I hadn't heard Liz say, "Oh. My. Gosh."**

"I think she just got what Blackthorne is."

**In the mirror I saw her staring at the picture on the screen with the eyes of a scientist, taking in every detail of the faces of the two boys.**

"Or a spy."

"**Cam," Liz called, without taking her eyes from the screen. "You've got to look at this!"**

**I moved from teeth flossing to face moisturizing – anything to stay busy. "I've seen it already," I told her.**

"**No, Cam," Liz said, pointing at the bright screen in the dim room. "Look! Look at his shirt! Mr. Solomon's T-shirt!"**

"Ohh. I remember that day. I was using my Blackthorne t-shirt."

**But she didn't have time to finish, because there… magnified – enhanced – I saw what I hadn't noticed in my mother's office. I read the words BLACKTHORNE INSTITUTE FOR BOYS.**

"**It's a school," Macey said slowly.**

"_**A boy's school!"**_** Liz cried.**

**I looked at he picture and said what everyone else was thinking. "For spies?"**

"For _assassins_" The boys and me added

"On that happy note. Who wants lunch?" Zach said, breaking the silence

* * *

_**Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Please review**_

_****__**PLEASE READ: I'm sorry guys but I'll take a break from this story. I promise you guys that I'll came back until the end of this year or maybe even **_**_earlier. I'm really sorry. I just lost inspiration right now. Again, I promise I'll come back as soon as possible. Thanks for every thing, my dear readers, and PLEASE R&R._**


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